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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103302">It's Not Too Late, Right?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/YXxXxXY/pseuds/YXxXxXY'>YXxXxXY</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FFXV Oneshots/Drabbles [42]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>FFXV - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:47:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>780</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103302</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/YXxXxXY/pseuds/YXxXxXY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>So, I got this idea from a dream, believe it or not. This is like the second or third story I’ve written that was influenced by a dream, or at least from a state where I was barely lucid.</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Prompto Argentum/Reader, Prompto/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FFXV Oneshots/Drabbles [42]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It's Not Too Late, Right?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, I got this idea from a dream, believe it or not. This is like the second or third story I’ve written that was influenced by a dream, or at least from a state where I was barely lucid.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You want to know about Noct, right?”</p><p>Prompto would never forget the look on your face when he said those words. A mixture of confusion and sadness had taken over your features, but had been carefully masked as soon as they appeared.</p><p>“It’s -- nevermind,” you had said, shuffling away from the blond, hands gripping your bag tightly. At the time, the teen didn’t know why you were so sad. You <em>had</em> wanted to speak with the prince, right? So why were you acting like that?</p><p>It wasn’t until a few days later than he finally understood.</p><p>***<br/><br/>“I don’t get it, Noct,” he whined, head on his desk. “I thought she wanted to talk with you, but when I told her I’d get you, she left.”</p><p>“Did she ever say she wanted to talk to me?” the prince asked from the next desk over. Prompto pouted, lifting his head slightly.</p><p>“Well, no, but why else would anyone approach me other than to talk with you?” the blond snorted. He let out an involuntary cry when something hard smacked him in the face, and he glared at Noct. “What was that for?!”</p><p>“Idiot, she wanted to talk to <em>you</em>, not me,” Noct scolded. His words were enough to make the blond freeze, the prince’s words sinking in abnormally slow, even for Prompto.</p><p>“Shit!”</p><p>***</p><p>No matter how hard he tried, he could never catch up to you. It was like you were trained to avoid people, and you avoided both him and the prince until high school graduation before falling off the face of Eos. By that time, the blond had given up on ever apologizing to you.</p><p>Then when Insomnia fell, he felt so many things, but above them all he felt guilt. He should’ve just heard what you had to say instead of assuming. If he had just <em>listened</em>, then maybe--</p><p>“Prompto, come on,” Gladio yanked the blond out of his head as the retinue arrived in Lestallum. Iris had called Noct not too long ago, and now they were here to meet with the younger Amicitia.</p><p>As they walked through the city, Prompto’s mind went back to despairing over the girl he had so heartlessly cast aside. The group entered The Leville,  and the first voice they heard was music to Prompto’s ears.</p><p>“Your Highness,” (Y/n)’s voice rang like bells, surrounding the group of men as you appeared from a corner of the lobby. You wore a tattered Kingsglaive jacket that barely hung on as you bowed to your sovereign. “Thank the Astrals you’re safe.”</p><p>“Who are you?” Gladio was the first to get between the girl and Noct, summoning his great sword as you straightened.</p><p>“(Y/n) (L/n), former Kingsglaive,” you said curtly, (e/c) eyes drifting from the shield to the others of the group. They went wide when they landed on Prompto, and you briefly though about running. But the next second, you were crushed in a hug from none other than the blond.</p><p>“Where have you been, dammit?” he hissed. He felt you flinch against him, but didn’t release you.</p><p>“Prompto, let go, please--”</p><p>“Not until you tell me why,” his voice had taken an unusual hardness as he looked down at you.</p><p>“You should probably let her go, young man,” a older man said from where he stood next to the counter. Prompto’s brows furrowed as he looked at the man. “She was injured during the Fall, and has yet to fully recover.”</p><p>“What happened, (Y/n)?” Prompto asked you, his eyes urging you to answer. At first, you weren’t going to, but when you saw the look on the prince’s face, you caved.</p><p>“I was with His Highness,” you began. You were still in Prompto’s arms, but his grip had loosened somewhat so you weren’t uncomfortable. “I was with him when it happened, when Niflheim attacked.”</p><p>“Are you alright?” Noct asked, surprising both his Shield and Advisor. You just shook your head, eyes cast to the floor.</p><p>“I couldn’t do anything, Noct,” you whimpered. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting Prompto console you by rubbing your back. “I couldn’t help him. I could only watch as General Glauca killed my king.”</p><p>***</p><p>You held onto Prompto as you lay in one of the beds in the room, almost falling asleep as he traced circles on your back. All of a sudden, his fingers stopped, and you looked up into his sapphire eyes.</p><p>“Is it too late?” he asked, his voice small. </p><p>“What do you mean, Prompto?”</p><p>“I mean, is it too late for us? For there to <em>be</em> an us?” His eyes moved to the ceiling. “It’s not too late, right?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You get to decide if it’s too late or not, Dear Reader...</p></blockquote></div></div>
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